


Star Shell

by flailingthroughsanity



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Growing Up Together, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 02:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9695333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flailingthroughsanity/pseuds/flailingthroughsanity
Summary: Sunggyu and Woohyun, on growing up and growing in love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the following songs:
> 
> nell - star shell  
> amy lee - love exists
> 
> my valentines' day entry - and because these two songs gave me hope. ; A;

STAR SHELL  
**flailingthroughsanity**

 

* * *

 

Sunggyu and Woohyun, growing up and growing in love.

* * *

 

∞

Sunggyu is six-years old.

Seoul is scary. Looking back, it may not seem as scary as it was when he was six – it’s more crowded than scary, drearier and depressing but not as scary or maybe Sunggyu’s just found a lot more things to be afraid of: unemployment, no life plans, maybe getting fired. Woohyun would call it Adult Fears™ and, maybe they are, but they’re the kind of fears that wrap his mind now, completely and vastly unlike his six-year old fears. It must be nice, when you’re six-years old, and your only fears were big buildings, the monster you were sure was under your bed, never being able to catch the next episode of Eto Rangers or when Howon took his favorite purple ballpen and would not give it back.

It’s the kind of childish – childish isn’t the right term, he feels; childlike, maybe – fears that would seem real to a six-year old, and Sunggyu looks back on it in fondness (and maybe a little embarrassment).

Sunggyu is six-years old, and Seoul is scary.

It was his first time in this big city, just having moved from Jeonju’s quaint serenity to this new one: filled with buildings taller than the mango trees by his neighbor Sungjong’s garden, with so many cars in different colors, honking and clanking. It even smells differently, Sunggyu recalls, having been used to the mountain air in Jeonju.

His mother pats his back and he looks up, small hands on the straps of his backpack, and the classroom door is open and he turns to see dozens of heads looking at him and he turns back to his mother, afraid.

His mother kneels, combing his hair and she smiles. “Come on, honey. It’s your first day, aren’t you excited?”

Sunggyu shakes his head, not looking at her. The teacher is standing by the door, politely giving him time to man up. “I don’t wanna.”

His mother frowns a bit. “But you said you were excited, remember?”

Sunggyu remembers, but he was thinking of Jeonju and his classmates Minah, Myungsoo and Dongwoo – not this new class, and no friend to call or to sit beside or to borrow a pencil.

“Can you give try, for eomma?” She asks, and Sunggyu wants to say no but he knows that his mother was running late. He might be six-years old but he’s a little smart for his age, and he knows that his mother had to get to work.

Even though his hands were clammy and he was afraid, he nodded, relenting. She smiled, kissed his cheek and hugged him close. He hugged her back, inhaling her lavender scent before she let go and thanked the teacher.

“I’ll see you later, okay? Just wait by the stairs and I’ll come get you.” He nodded at his mother’s words, and waved back as she hurried down the hall.

“Why don’t we get you settled in, Sunggyu?” His teacher spoke, and he turned back to her and nodded, holding on to his backpack’s straps. He followed her to the center of the room, on top of a wooden pedestal and she turned to the class. Sunggyu tried his best not to look at any of them in the eye, aware of their staring.

“Alright, so we’ve got a new classmate here. He just came from Jeonju, so I hope everyone here will be nice to him. Is that understood?” A chorus of yes followed, but Sunggyu didn’t miss the whispers going around and he held on to his straps tighter.

A hand tapped his shoulder. “Why don’t you introduce yourself, Sunggyu?”

Alarm rose in him, but Sunggyu swallowed and stepped forward, although he tried his best not to shake. He wasn’t used to being in the center of attention, and more so when he was asked to speak but he tried. For mother.

He only got to mumbling out his name, which the teacher asked him to repeat – mumbling out “Lim” instead of “Kim” and “Sunyeon” instead of “Sunggyu”.

“Well,” the teacher said, voice cheery in spite of Sunggyu’s awkward introduction. “It’s very nice to meet you, Sunggyu. Why don’t you take the seat there, next to Woohyun?”

He nods, happy to hurry to his chair and evade the gaze of much of the class. He places his bag on the floor, and surreptitiously looks to his side – to the Woohyun guy his teacher had pointed. The other had his face turned to him, probably in curiousity, and Sunggyu turns his gaze back to his own desk, not wanting to meet the other’s eyes.

The teacher continued, discussing about homeroom rules and their schedules and sets of classes. Sunggyu tried to follow, to the best of his abilities, but he was still getting used to the classroom and being in the presence of so many strangers. He let his eyes wander, as secretly as he can, and he was half-hoping, half-wishing to see Myungsoo grinning at him, eyes crinkling under his thick hair or see Minah waving at him before being reprimanded by the teacher for not listening. All he saw were strangers, in his new school uniform, and he could see them talking to each other when the teacher’s back was turned and Sunggyu suddenly felt lonely: he had no friends here, he was by himself.

The teacher started writing down notes on the board, and Sunggyu looked around and saw his classmates copying. Bending down, he opened his bag and grabbed his notebook and pencil. Only to find the end broken, probably from all his jostling with the bag, and when he searched through his things, realized he didn’t have another one or even a sharpener to fix it.

When he looked back up, the teacher turned to them and saw him, notebook closed. She smiled, and although her voice was nice and cheery, there was a faint warning in her words. “Sunggyu, make sure to copy everything I’m writing down. I’ll be checking everyone’s notebooks after.”

She turned back and resumed writing, and Sunggyu panicked. His first day, and he was already messing up. He didn’t want to disappoint mother, or his teacher, and he tried to searching through his bag again, whining a little when he couldn’t find anything to write with.

It wasn’t until he felt a tapping on his shoulder, and turned to see another student holding out a pencil.

“Huh?” He croaks out, looking from the pencil to the student. The other shook the pencil, and smiled.

“I have an extra. You can borrow this.”

Sunggyu raises a hand, holding on to the pencil and still unsure with what was happening – merely breathed out. “Thank you. I’ll take care of it, promise.”

His classmate smiled wider, and there was something honest about the smile. “You’re welcome, Sunggyu.”

He bit his lips, nodding but he still kept his gaze on the other, unsure as to what to say.

“I’m Woohyun.”

And Sunggyu finally smiles.

∞

Woohyun is everything Sunggyu is not.

At twelve, he’s good-looking, talented, popular and smart. Even though he was a bit on the short side, Woohyun had everything else. He was handsome, although not as breathtaking as Myungsoo had been, he did have his own charm. He had a wonderful voice, and he had many opportunities to showcase it — the Christmas recital in first grade, during his own birthday party when he was eight, and in sixth grade when he was asked to sing the national anthem during the morning assembly. A lot of the girls swooned when he sang, and Sunggyu can see why: with a voice dripping like honey, thick and sweet, Woohyun could sing anyone off their feet. He was also ridiculously smart – although not the straight A student that some of his classmates were (Woohyun did have his off days) – he always spoke well when asked to participate, had wonderful insight and was, more often than not, always asked to be the group leader for projects (as group leaders, Sunggyu remembers in middle school, were always synonymous with “the guys who did the entire project”). All three of these qualities more or less pushed Woohyun up the popularity list; everyone wanted him: the soccer team for practice and for school games, the glee club for his voice, the debate team for his wit and he was a shoe-in for an award during graduation.

Sunggyu is everything Woohyun is not.

At twelve, he is awkward and quiet and the total opposite of Woohyun. Sunggyu has always been a quiet kid, more on the side of introspection and creativity. He wasn’t as athletic or energetic as Woohyun – he preferred to be at the sides of any sports game, wishing he could disappear into the bleachers whenever the instructor turned to look for volunteers (he couldn’t face being the center of attention of so many people and fuck up when he tried to kick a soccer ball or even hit a volleyball back). He wasn’t talented – his mother has always mentioned that he had a good voice, and Sunggyu did like music and singing above other things, but he wasn’t classically trained like Woohyun. He sang rock songs in the vicinity of his room, sometimes even late at night when he should be asleep (his mother would shout at him to go to sleep from her room and Sunggyu would freeze up and feel his face redden), turning a reedy, out-of-tune voice into something resembling decency: but he didn’t have Woohyun’s vast experience, or his confidence, and he kept his singing under the wraps. He did well in class, the seldom A in a span of Bs – not someone dumb, or desperate enough to pass, but someone ordinary, someone completely unremarkable – and he did manage to do well even in oral participation, but not better than most of his classmates. Sunggyu wasn’t a wallflower, but he was merely a face in the crowd – someone you can pass by in the streets, maybe recognize, but not someone you turned your head to take a second glance—

Woohyun flopped down on the bench across the table Sunggyu was at, and the other spied some female students giggling on a nearby table – pointing at Woohyun.

—and he was certainly not someone girls pointed to and giggled at each other in the corner.

“Man, I am _starving_.” Woohyun groans, letting his head flop back before collapsing over the table. Sunggyu moved his tray, letting Woohyun’s hands smack on the surface. He was a bit sweaty, hair slightly disheveled but Sunggyu detected a trace of cedar and he hid a smile behind the juice box in his hands.

Woohyun turned his head, looking up at Sunggyu from beneath his fringe. “Feed me, hyung.”

Shaking his head, feeling amused at the other’s antics, Sunggyu grabbed the Tupperware box his mother had packed with food and poked Woohyun’s arm with its edge. “Here, before you die of starvation and your fangirls would mourn for years.”

Woohyun ignored the tail end of his sentence, grabbing the box and pulling off the cover. He gasped in delight as he caught sight of the maki rolls. He aimed to grab one with his bare hand, and Sunggyu slapped it off, handing a pair of chopsticks.

“Fine,” Woohyun mutters and picks a roll with the chopsticks, stuffing it into his mouth and Sunggyu’s pretty sure he barely even _chewed_ it before Woohyun was swallowing it down. He doesn’t understand how someone good-looking and smart and talented was this much of a slob, to be honest, but he doesn’t really mind (Woohyun would often think otherwise).

“ _Ah_ ,” Woohyun lets out a positively indecent groan and Sunggyu frowns, hearing the giggling girls whine and screech in the background at Woohyun. “Your mom makes the _best_ rolls, and she always remembers to put in mangoes.”

Sunggyu smiles, and he remembers his mom packing more rolls into his lunch box than usual.

 _“I know you don’t like it when I put mangoes in, so this one is for Woohyun, and this is for you, okay?_ ” _She had said that morning, pushing his lunchbox into his hands._

Sometimes, when he looks back on it, it wasn’t the fact that Woohyun was talented, or smart or popular or good-looking that drew Sunggyu to him. He recall someone more good-looking, like Myungsoo back in Jeonju, or smart – like Minah, in spite of her occasional rebellious streak. There was something magnetic and charming about Woohyun, and maybe because it’s only with Sunggyu that he can be like this: flopping over the table, hands unwashed, sweaty. He knows Woohyun sometimes trembles under the expectations of other people, his _own_ parents, and Sunggyu guesses it’s just how life is: be remotely good at something, and people expect you to be good, or even better, over time. To Woohyun, who was good with _everything_ , he can see that a lot of people have expectations for him.

To Coach Sung Dong-il, he was the star player. Sunggyu had been privy to the many times he sat by the bleachers, watching Woohyun play and even though Sunggyu had relatively no idea about the mechanics of soccer, he could see that Woohyun really was as good as people made him out to be. To teacher Il-hwa, the glee club moderator, Woohyun was his number one performer and even though his friend was juggling academics, sports and now music at school, he never failed to make her proud, singing his eleven-year old voice out to the tune of _Music of the Night_. Don’t even get him started on Mr. Song Jong-ho’s debates or his pop quiz, which Woohyun did so well (and Sunggyu was once again privy to the late nights on the phone, hearing his friend groan about how tired he was studying – of course, Sunggyu would be playing video games and pass the quiz the next day on a measly C).

Most of all, though, he can still remember his first day in Seoul, six-years old and turning to find Woohyun holding out a pencil, letting him borrow. That was probably the greatest reason why, in spite of their vast differences, Sunggyu held on to the friendship with Woohyun.

Someone sits beside him, and turns to see their other friend, Eunji, with her own tray. “Jeez, clean up after yourself, Nam. Sunggyu-oppa, would you like some gelato?”

Both boys turn and watch Eunji pop open the plastic container and their eyes widen at the dessert nestled inside. Woohyun reaches out, with his grubby hand, and Eunji picks up a stick and pushes his hand away.

“I said clean up after yourself. Why can’t you be neat like Sunggyu-oppa?”

Woohyun rolls his eyes. “Why does it even matter, they’re still gonna get dirty later on! Tell her, hyung!”

Sunggyu chuckles to himself, still feeling amused by the squabble – it’s been going on for a year now, ever since Eunji moved to Seoul and joined their class at the start of the year. The giggling in the background turn to harsh whispering and hissing and Sunggyu wonders how Eunji can ignore the jealousy of Woohyun’s fangirls.

Woohyun reaches out again and Eunji barks back at him.

“Hyung,” Woohyun whined, looking up at Sunggyu. He looks adorable like that, eyes wide under his fringe.

“Oppa!” Eunji grumbled, pouting at him. Honestly, these two – in spite of their outward arguing – were too alike for their own good. Sometimes, Sunggyu resents being a year older and starting late in school.

Woohyun sees Eunji pouting, and then decides to _pout_ and Sunggyu knows he’s made up his mind before he even opened his mouth. “Just give him a bit, Eunji.”

Eunji grouses while Woohyun celebrates, and Sunggyu can’t stop himself from smiling at the other’s energy, reaching up to tug Sunggyu into his arms for a hug. Sunggyu pretends to be annoyed, weakly fighting against Woohyun and angling his head away because no matter how perfect Woohyun may seem, sweat still stunk – especially that of a prepubescent boy.

“It’s not fair, you’re always taking his side.” Eunji whined, eyes shooting annoyed glances at Woohyun as the other grabbed Sunggyu’s used spoon and took a big scoop. “Oppa said only a bit. Hey, stop taking so much! Nam Woohyun!”

“Hyung likes me best!” Woohyun sang around the spoon in his mouth, ignoring Eunji’s growing complaints.

And maybe she was right, Sunggyu thinks. Maybe Sunggyu can be blamed for always taking Woohyun’s side – but how can he stop himself? Woohyun may be everything that Sunggyu was not, but he was still there. He held out a pencil, lending it to Sunggyu and starting a bond at six-years old; he stayed over at Sunggyu’s place when his parents were out of town (and they were always out of town, working) and they had spent many nights under the same blanket, a lone flashlight and their imagination keeping them awake until they fell asleep over one another at two in the morning (to his own mom’s amusement); Woohyun was there when other classmates would make fun of him back when he still had his accent, or when his lisp would become noticeable, and Woohyun would stand in front of Sunggyu, straight and proud and brave and everything Sunggyu wanted to be and he would tell the jeering kids “go away, losers!” and even though the kids would not stop laughing and jeering, having Woohyun there was enough.

Sunggyu had never asked these things of Woohyun, and the other never offered; but somehow, somewhere, the pieces just fell into place and it felt right.

No one can blame him for always taking the other’s side; they were best friends after all.

∞

High school, along with adolescence and puberty, brought along with it a myriad of changes. Gone were the days spent under the sun, across the fields, playing, chasing each other – hide and seek, tag – every other game they could all make up just to have something to play. Gone were the moments, running back home to curl in front of the television, Eto Rangers and Pokémon and Yu-Gi-Oh playing, maybe a Playstation on and they’d end up battling each other in Bloody Roar or Tekken. Gone were the carefree, innocent days of childhood.

High school, being sixteen, brought along with it its own responsibilities. You’re not a child anymore; you’re sixteen, you should start acting more maturely, start considering things more seriously. Cartoons and video games didn’t matter that much in the long run anymore — studies, college applications and your circle of friends started taking center stage.

Sunggyu is no longer the awkward kid the way he was back in middle school. Yes, he was still prone to the occasional bout of silence, but he’s learned to be more approaching of other people. He was no longer the runt of the group, he’s grown in the years between twelve and sixteen, slightly even taller than Woohyun, and he’s learned to keep himself decent and neat. He’s learned to style his hair, dress himself well. He wasn’t the popular student on the block, but he’s learned not to look like a loser at the very least.

Woohyun, on the other hand, just grew more and more good-looking. His slender physique had gone, replaced by a lean body – days spent on the soccer field keeping his frame fit and healthy and good – and although he’s not as tall as Sunggyu is (just an inch or two shorter), he’s become more magnetic over the years.

They’re no longer each other’s worlds, but they still continue to orbit, although in bigger, wider circles now. They’ve learned to have friends outside of each other, but in the end – one thing that remained, and it will always keep Sunggyu happy – was that they were still best friends. He know friendships made in childhood didn’t often last, and he was happy that his friendship with Woohyun showed no signs of deteriorating.

They were still each other’s best buddy, their names on speed dial of each other’s phones, always the number one message in the inbox. He has a set of clothes over at Woohyun’s place, and his bestfriend had some – even underwear! – at Sunggyu’s place, meshed right in between Sunggyu’s clothes for every day.

He turned his gaze to the window, and looked over the field, and he could set Woohyun aside, even at a distance, running, chasing after a ball, hair flopping in the wind. He’s gotten really good, and Sunggyu sighs.

“Care to tell us what’s on your mind, Mr. Kim Sunggyu?”

And Sunggyu jumps, smiling sheepishly, as he turns back to his English teacher and shakes his head, ignoring Eunji cackling behind him. Some things never changed: he still found classes boring.

* * *

 

They were walking to the tables at the quad, relishing the cool air and the blue sky. It was three in the afternoon, and although it was bright, it wasn’t as hot as it usually was in the summer, and it seems everyone was in the mind to take advantage of the wonderful weather.

He sits on the bench, and Eunji sits across him, pulling out a Tupperware from her bag. Sunggyu hums. “I thought you finished all that during lunch?”

Eunji shakes her head, grinning into the tteokbokki in her Tupperware. “Nope, that was the gamjajeon, and the kimchi rice.”

“And you're still not full?” Sunggyu asks, watching her pick up a huge cut of rice cake and stuffing it into her mouth.

“You should know by now that I have a lovely appetite.” She answers with a full mouth and he grimaces, reminded again as to how similar she and Woohyun were. She pushed the Tupperware to him, but he shook his head, not hungry and content to just relax in the cool breeze.

He frowned, smelling something a little rancid, before he felt weight on the bench and turned to find Woohyun – sweaty and stinking – flopping down beside him.

“Ugh, can you please go take a shower or something?” Eunji complained, but she made no move to cover her nose – just kept on eating. She’s probably used to this, has been for years.

“I agree.” Sunggyu says, turning his head away from Woohyun. The other rolled his eyes, and pushed his sweaty hair into the side of Sunggyu’s neck. “Am I grossing you out, hyung?”

He pushed the head away, grabbing onto hair and pulling it. Woohyun grumbled in pain, reaching a hand up. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Jeez, hyung, you’re worse than Eunji is.”

They both ignored the “ _I trained him well_ ” from the other side of the table.

Woohyun pulled out his own Tupperware from his bag, and when he opened it – both Sunggyu and Eunji looked in and rolled back in disgust. Eunji bit out, frowning. “What in the world is that?”

“Fucking food, that’s what,” Woohyun bites back, although they’re not sure if it’s at them or at his own meal as he was also grimacing. “Coach wants us to build our endurance, so he’s planning everything out – even our own meals.”

Sunggyu shakes his head, watching Woohyun pick through the pale, chicken breast. It didn’t even look like it  _cooked_. “He has too much time on his hands.”

Eunji nodded. “He should just make a move and hook up with Ms. Il-hwa and they could both stop torturing us.”

Woohyun made an agreeing sound, miserably stuffing himself with the bland chicken and the lettuce mixed in, looking envious of Eunji’s rice cakes.

In high school, some things change and some things don’t.

It’s when Sunggyu stops, watching (more than listening) Woohyun and Eunji bickering – back and forth, gochujang sauce flying all over the table and Sunggyu moves a bit and narrowly escapes one hitting his shirt. It’s when Woohyun turns to him, mouth full and eyes flashing as he rounds up another bout of arguing with Eunji that Sunggyu holds a hand out – growing bored of the fighting – and covers Woohyun’s mouth.

Woohyun muttered something like “hyung” but he really can’t make it out from under his own hand and Eunji rolls her eyes. When he lowers his hand, Woohyun pouts, lower lip trembling and looking like a beaten down puppy for all the world to see and Sunggyu pauses, taking in Woohyun, and the pounding in his chest suddenly grows louder and louder.

Some things don’t change, like the three of them and their friendship.

And some things do change, like the way his voice goes from light to deep, and how his body fills out more these days. He’s also moodier now, sometimes even arguing with his mother.

Looking at Woohyun, sweaty and smelly and the exact opposite of how he normally is (perfect), Sunggyu suddenly realizes that the pounding in his chest isn’t normal.

“Hyung, you okay?” And Woohyun puts a hand out and feels his neck.

Sunggyu fights the urge to tremble at his touch. He knows that’s not normal.

High school brought with it a lot of changes, and nothing was more shocking, more life-changing than realizing he had the biggest crush in the world on his best friend.

* * *

 Looking back, Sunggyu shouldn’t have been surprised.

He has always been close to Woohyun, even closer to him than he was to Eunji and that wasn’t an unknown thought – Woohyun was, after all, his first friend. He’s been with Woohyun, growing up, through childhood and scarred knees and growth spurts, through graduation and awkward middle school crushes, through nervous first day of high school, and now they’re here: senior year and ready for another chapter of their lives.

He’s seen Woohyun in all shades of life: six-years old, snot running down his nose as he watches his parents go out of town for work again, holding Sunggyu’s hand and trying to cheer him up as best as possible; twelve-years old, through the mandatory bad hair days of middle school, and the hordes of girls crushing on him; now at sixteen, cusp of high school, their bodies more mature yet they still felt completely at ease with one another, even when Woohyun would barge into his room (completely uninvited) and strip his shirt off, using his own bathroom (Sunggyu had stopped asking _why_ a few years back), or when Sunggyu – with his traitorous and hormonal body – would pop a boner early in the morning and he’d awaken to find Woohyun laughing silently at him, at six in the morning, pointing to the tent in his pyjamas. Well, his face would be red but the way he manhandled Woohyun to the floor was nothing new. He’s seen his fair share of Woohyun boners in the morning, too.

Perhaps it’s because of the familiarity, how easy they were with each other – years of friendship, through fights and bloody noses and quiet, genuine apologies obstinately spoken – perhaps the ease with which he was with Woohyun that made the realization all the more surprising.

Because not even once, in Sunggyu’s wildest dreams, did he ever imagine the way Woohyun would bite his lips would affect him this greatly, setting his heart on fire and his body warm. It should be impossible, improbable and illogical – the way Woohyun’s smile made Sunggyu smile without fail, how his bright eyes crinkling in fondness should tighten his chest in this painful – almost deliciously so – manner that spoke so much about what he felt, that it was more than flesh, past skin and down to something far primal and deep.

* * *

 “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been really quiet lately.” Woohyun says later on. They’re on the roof of Woohyun’s house, crawling through the attic window – something they’ve discovered back when they were eight.

He remembered how they found it: at the tender age of eight where they grew bored of a lot of things, it was to a chanced game of hide and seek, with Sunggyu running up the stairs and hiding inside a random door he closed after himself. It was a small room, half of Woohyun’s living room, and it was filled with stacks of boxes and a window near the high ceiling. Of course, being mesmerized and curious about the room, Sunggyu failed to hear Woohyun coming up the stairs. He was found, unsurprisingly, but they both got curious about the window and where it led to. A ladder lay off to the side, and although unfolding it took a while for two small eight-year olds, they managed to succeed (although Sunggyu’s once pristine white shirt was another story). Climbing up the step and pushing the window open, the two found themselves on a landing right outside the window, flat enough, resting between the roof slates. It was small, almost unnoticeable, but it was large enough for two young boys to lie down and stare at the stars.

“How many times have we been here?” Sunggyu asks, instead, remembering the nights spent looking up at stars – nights with Woohyun’s parents out of town, and Sunggyu by his side, making jokes, trying to ease the frown on Woohyun’s lips. He remembered considering it a success every time those down-turned corners would twitch.

Woohyun turns about, looking around the landing and across – where the sky was turning a fiery gold, like molten flames. They were large enough that it was impossible to lie down comfortably (and also at the risk of rolling down the roof and landing in a splat down on the ground) but they could still sit with their backs to the wall next to the window, heads resting on the sturdy material.

“More times than we could count, to be honest.” The other remarks, and there’s a trace of humor in his voice. Sunggyu turns to his best friend and pauses, just studies his profile. He takes in the chestnut hair, swaying in the afternoon wind, his gaze somewhere distant, nose sharp and pointed, lips slightly open (lower lip full and Sunggyu stares a little longer at that). Woohyun was really good-looking, that Sunggyu couldn’t deny. The years only strengthened his beauty, his cheeks hollowing, losing childhood fat and leaving a maturity that gave him a kind of attractiveness that Sunggyu felt all over his body. His skin had gone from that milky white to a golden tan, from days spent under the sun training, and Woohyun glowed like that, lit by orange sunlight at rest — a picturesque image, a beautiful young man in repose.

The way Sunggyu’s chest throbbed and his hands ached to do something – hold on to Woohyun, _kiss_ him, freeze him in time forever and ever so he’ll never have to let go of this moment.

“Do you know what day it is?” Woohyun asks, and he looks at Sunggyu.

Sunggyu purses his lips, holding back the gasp that wanted to escape his lungs, as sunlight and shadow painted Woohyun’s silhouette in a golden outline, his eyes shining – bright and molten and gold.

He shakes his head, looking away from Woohyun and over to the views in the distance, sees the roofs of so many houses and trees, and Seoul’s skyscraper heart in the distance.

Woohyun hums and Sunggyu feels, rather than sees, Woohyun turn away and pick on the end of his shoe. Sunggyu follows the way his finger chips at the side of his sneakers, and he remembers days spent at the park, watching the white Converse fade to a messy, grey, smudged with dirt but still well-loved and well-worn.

“You really don’t know?”

Sunggyu shakes his head, and looks at Woohyun, a little confused. His best friend was sometimes weird like that, remembering odd dates of things Sunggyu never really considered important.

Woohyun puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out something long and slender, and Sunggyu takes a moment to realize it’s a pencil.

Woohyun holds out the pencil, and he looks up his fringe at Sunggyu – eyes golden in the setting sun – and says in a quiet, _happy_ voice. “I have an extra. You can borrow this.”

Sunggyu holds his breath.

He counts the days in his head and his eyes widen. The sixth of August. The first day of class.

The first time he meets Woohyun.

With a faintly trembling hand, Sunggyu takes the other end of the pencil and he realizes: he doesn’t really need a reason, he just loves Woohyun.

* * *

 He doesn’t say anything. He can’t.

He doesn’t want to lose Woohyun.

Even if it hurt, keeping it in the shadows, his love growing in darkness.

Woohyun would run across the field, the cheering from the bleachers reaching deafening height, and Sunggyu would be there and he’d stand and scream like the rest, waving, dressed in their school colors and he doesn’t know if the rest cheer for the team or for one person.

He just knows that it’s only Woohyun he’s cheering for, eyes running after the flopping chestnut hair and the elated look on his face as he ran fast, ball just as quick in between his feet and when he shoots a goal, eyes wide – paused – before they widen some more and the whole stadium explodes in a cheer, Sunggyu could only stand and look at Woohyun, heart in his throat, immensely proud and fond and in love.

And Woohyun would turn to the crowd, hands raised, cheering along – sweaty and red and euphoric — and it should be impossible, improbable, the way Woohyun would scan the crowds and find him, eyes locked and his wide smile would turn small, into a much gentler one, lips tight and eyes bright, a smile just for Sunggyu.

He doesn’t know what to make of it, what to make of that special smile and he just smiles back – because what else can he do? What else he can do but smile back, wanting so much more but afraid to take that one step – because what if it doesn’t work?

What if nothing goes right?

What if he can no longer call Woohyun his best friend?

What if he can no longer wake up in the morning, and find his best friend sprawled next to him in his bed, probably having snuck in through his bedroom window the night before?

What if he can no longer sit beside him at lunch, laughing with Eunji as Woohyun forked through the tasteless meal prepared by his coach?

What if he can no longer feel his warmth, arms pressed against one another, as they sit on that landing, watching sunsets go and watching stars – Andromeda, Orion and Pegasus – come alive, and they’d name some after themselves or something else entirely made up?

A thousand “what ifs” drive through his mind every time he looks across, wanting more than an arm around the shoulder, a hug that lasts a second (far too quick for him to be satisfied) or a shared gaze that hid a million secrets.

“Did you see me there?” Woohyun asks, panting and excited, and he always finds Sunggyu – even through the throngs of people crowding around him to congratulate, to talk – it was always Sunggyu first. Eunji was part of their circle, a close friend, but Sunggyu took center stage.

And for a moment, Sunggyu felt happy to be that: that for a mere moment, he was the world Woohyun orbited around (or perhaps the other way around).

“Yeah,” Sunggyu says, smiling – not hiding his pride, he was glowing with it.

Woohyun looks at him, smiling that small smile, and suddenly he looks down and he says out, in a quiet voice. “Thanks, hyung.”

A random, _rare_ moment of shyness had his heart beating so hard, it threatened to announce his secrets to the world, but Sunggyu breathed on, grasping the other’s shoulder and – fuck it, he’s allowed to have this: he thinks, as he pulls Woohyun into him, tight and warm. He doesn’t care about the sweat staining his shirt, or that they were in the presence of so many people all looking at them.

He feels Woohyun’s arms around his sides, holding him close and steady, and he feels the other’s breath and Sunggyu closes his eyes, feeling content, the slump of Woohyun’s muscles, relaxed and safe in his arms.

Reality drops in, as a gaggle of giggling girls approach and Sunggyu pulls away, smiling at Woohyun – who was looking up at him, eyes wide and that special smile still on his lips. “You did really well.”

 _You’re always perfect_ , Sunggyu thinks. _Even asleep on my bed, mouth open and snoring. A lot of people like you because you’re smart, and you’re good-looking and talented. I don’t, though. I love that you’re smart, I love that you’re handsome, and I love that you’re talented – I love all the parts that make you who you are, but what made me fall in love with you in the first place was something else entirely: you were kind. You were kind, you reached out to me when I was alone. You were my first friend here, and suddenly you’re more than that now – suddenly, I want you everywhere, in all parts of my life. I don’t just want a night of video games, of looking across and watching you smirk at me while we play Smash Bros. I don’t just want afternoons spent sitting side-by-side watching the sunset. I don’t just want all that: you’re my first love and I want everything. I want forever. You’re everything to me._

Sunggyu keeps silent, lets his litany go unheard as he lets go of Woohyun and nods at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Woohyun nods back, still looking at him, eyes bright an emotion that Sunggyu doesn’t want to name. “I’ll see you tomorrow, hyung.”

They spend a moment, just looking into each other’s eyes, mapping the features they’ve both known for so long – watching them grown from small and untouched to mature – and maybe Woohyun takes a while, just continues to stare at him but Sunggyu raises a hand and waves. Woohyun waves back, walking backwards, still smiling, still looking at Sunggyu before he turns at the last second, jumping into his team and cheering.

Sunggyu stays a moment, just watches him celebrate, and even though it killed him to bottle everything inside, watching Woohyun shine, bright like the morning star, he knew he’s made the right choice.

∞

The right choice isn’t always the easiest.

In fact, it sometimes can be the hardest thing to do – and you have to remind yourself why you made that choice in the first place; remind yourself every day that it was worth it, worth everything you’re going through – because if it’s not, how can you live with yourself? How can you go on, knowing you’ve made the wrong choices?

It wasn’t college that taught him that, but adulthood. Adulthood brought with it a lot of challenges, challenges that school never prepared you for. Your identity, what you wanted to be, choices that could have repercussions later on – Sunggyu was never prepared for this. He wanted to hold on to the last vestiges of innocence, hold on to what was left of his fading childhood but sometimes, you hold on to dust and can only watch as it fades from your closed fists, disappearing into the air, gone forever.

He walks up the stairs and when he sees the door on the right, third from the landing, Sunggyu feels the exhaustion weighing him down lighten and he’s hurrying, unlocking the door and stepping in. The dormitory is empty when he opens the light, and he takes a moment to glance at Woohyun’s bed, still unmade from when he literally rolled out of it this morning. A part of him wants to smile, fond at how some things don’t change and a part of him aches, eyes going to the wallclock with the date, seeing **08/06** staring back at him.

It was the day of their “friendshippery”, which Woohyun _intelligently_ quoted, playing on the word anniversary. Over the years, they had taken to celebrating the day in their own little ways – celebrating a friendship that had lasted since he was six-years old, and now at the age of twenty-two, still as thick as thieves, inseparable.

He glances at the empty, messy bed and sighs again. He knows he should start for dinner, but he doesn’t feel remotely hungry.

He wanted to celebrate today with Woohyun – even though they shared the same room, with their different studies and their own cliques, it was beginning to get difficult to see each other outside their dormitory.

There were times where he would still be asleep, even when it was past eight in the morning and he would touch the surface of being awake, faintly aware of someone moving about and he’d hear Woohyun, chuckling and quietly saying “I’ll see you later, hyung” and a door closing, and Sunggyu would let himself smile before diving back into peaceful slumber.

And sometimes, Sunggyu would come home really late at night – from staying hours at the music room with his composition teacher, bouncing ideas off one another. When he would come home, the room would be dark and smell faintly of nicotine and sex and he would open the lights, heart twisting as he looks at a sleeping Woohyun, bare except for the boxers riding low on his hips, blanket hanging off his legs, and Sunggyu bites his lips, knowing that Woohyun’s on-and-off girlfriend (if he can even call her that) had just left.

It was one of the things he had to learn over the years, one of the things that made him remind himself about his choice: remind himself that it was all worth it.

That even though he could never give Woohyun the satisfaction his girlfriend does, he could be content with his nearness.

Sunggyu sighs, turning away and setting his bag down by the foot of his bed. Maybe he should just sleep this one off. There was still next year to celebrate, and he’s been tired lately.

There’s a tap on the door, before the knob turns and Sunggyu watches Woohyun come in, holding his bag in both hands. It looked suspiciously full, but Sunggyu doesn’t mind that – he’s surprised. He honestly thought Woohyun was with his girlfriend, and when he looks at the clock and sees its past nine in the evening, he was just content to go to sleep.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, confused, watching the lumps in Woohyun’s bag.

His bestfriend smiles, or grins wolfishly for that matter and Sunggyu still feels a rush seeing the excitement in the other’s eyes.

“I thought you were with Yuri?”

The other looks up, looking slightly confused. “Yuri and I broke up a month ago, hyung.”

Sunggyu frowns. “Again?”

The other shakes his head. “Permanently. I’ve had enough…or she’s had enough. Well, both of us had enough.”

Woohyun sets the bag down with a sigh and waves a hand at him. “Anyway, enough about that business. Unless you forgot, today is our friendshippery—“

And Sunggyu honestly can’t stop the smile from growing on his face, or the thread of fondness and _belongingness_ running through his veins at Woohyun’s words – Yuri and all that forgotten.

“—and I am not missing a single one. So, deal with it hyung.”

Woohyun bends down again, and opens the bag and pulls out cans of beer and honestly, should Sunggyu still pretend to be surprised? Technically, they weren’t allowed to bring alcohol inside the dormitory but even at twenty-one, in college and studying a, as Woohyun would say it himself, boring course like Accountancy – his best friend was still as popular as ever, easily making friends where Sunggyu was more picky. Pretty sure the RA turned a blind eye like he always did whenever Woohyun broke the rules.

Sunggyu has half a mind to tell on his best friend, but he doesn’t. He never does.

He’ll always bend backwards for Woohyun, although over the years, he’s done a good job of making the other work for it.

He grabs the can Woohyun holds out to him and opens it, and lets the beer wash away the exhaustion and lull him into a drug-like warmth that Sunggyu’s grown to appreciate over the years. Woohyun takes a swing of his own, and sits on the floor beside Sunggyu.

They just sit there, sipping, and although they can pepper the air with conversation – years, almost _two_ decades of friendship had taught them that sometimes, silence is enough. They drink, one can turning into two and into three and Sunggyu’s mind is foggy, exhaustion gone, and he slightly wonders if Woohyun’s bag had some sort of spell on it because the other just kept the cans coming.

The light blurs into dulled spots of light, and the colors started coalescing, and Sunggyu suddenly feels like he’s floating in space. Something holds on to his hand and pulls him up, and he’s looking at Woohyun.

Woohyun, Woohyun, Woohyun.

Eyes wide, dulled ochre in the room’s low light, skin still holding traces of tan, but returning to their original milky white now that Woohyun no longer has the time for soccer; and Sunggyu’s reminded of a thousand years and one of loving him, in every permutation, in every frame of his life.

Childhood. Adolescence. Adulthood.

Woohyun was his constant.

Eunji had gone to the U.S. after high school, returning to be with her parents and although they had tried to hold on to each other, some bonds just don’t last and they’re all reduced to the occasional message on Facebook, or the random like on Instagram.

But Woohyun was always there.

In all the years Sunggyu’s known, his childhood in Jeonju fading into faint memories (memories of his old friends), Woohyun remained – a bright shining star on the horizon, calling him home.

Woohyun was his constant.

“Hyung,” Woohyun whispers, breath fanning across Sunggyu’s lips, and he smells like alcohol and candy and cedar, _wonderful_ cedar. “I miss you.”

Sunggyu doesn’t even hesitate. “I miss you too.”

His lisp is strong, it always is whenever he is slightly tipsy or drunk, but he doesn’t really mind it now, not when it makes Woohyun smile like that, close and genuine and bright and all for Sunggyu. “Your lisp is back.”

Sunggyu nods, and his view jumps like crazy before he has to hold on to Woohyun’s shoulders, letting his nonexistent balance rock him on his heels. He leans close, letting his forehead lean against the other, resting, letting himself relax. He opens his eyes and Woohyun is right there, eyes wide and near and inky black in the shade.

“Your eyes are so wide.” He says, unconscious of his words, their noses touching. Woohyun is silent, continues to look up.

He feels warm, wanted and content – surrounded in this haze, half alcohol, half cedar and Sunggyu steps closer, hands on his best friend’s hips.

He knows, in the depths of sobriety, he’d never even dare to _dream_ of this – of holding Woohyun close, hands on the other’s hips, thumbs sliding under his shirt and caressing the skin there, feeling Woohyun’s breathing close, sharing the same air. He can only dream about this on the days where he felt lost, aching for a sliver of what he wanted but never could have – dream about Woohyun’s eyes, his nose pressed against his, lips slightly open. Maybe he is asleep, maybe he’s slipped into exhaustion and decided to just stop and think “hey, screw it. I’ll never have him, the least I can have is to dream about him”.

It’s the kind of rationale that Sunggyu would laugh at should he be sober, but he’s not. He’s drunk, drunk on alcohol and cedar and his want and need. Years of pent-up want, all stemming from an extended hand holding a lone pencil aloft – an offering of more than just temporary friendship, something far deeper than Sunggyu could have ever hoped for himself, and he lets the walls he’s held on for _so long_ crumble.

He leans close, hands holding Woohyun tight, and angles his lips – finding purchase in his best friend’s lips, slightly open, and Sunggyu sees stars explode in the back of his eyes as they close, in pleasure and surrender, finally tasting a decade of desire.

Woohyun trembles under his touch and he backs away slightly – for Sunggyu to follow, eyes open slightly, confused, wondering.

“Are you sure, hyung?” Woohyun asks, in an almost sibilant manner.

Sunggyu’s never been so sure of anything in his entire life.

He nods and lets all his doubts wash away from his mind as he pushes on, finding Woohyun’s lips and feeling his best friend finally _responding_.

Woohyun groans, quietly and silently, and he pushes back and Sunggyu feels hands holding on, fastening to his shoulders, to his arms, promising to never let go.

“Hyung,” Woohyun whispers. “Sunggyu.”

And _fuck_ , Sunggyu wants Woohyun like this – pliant and needy and whispering his name, like a prayer on his lips.

He can’t stop, can’t hold himself back as he kisses Woohyun deep and searching, trying to put into that single kiss all the years of want, all the years of need, all the years spent looking across, watching to reach out but choosing not to – because he was content, Sunggyu was content to love from afar, love in the shadows, love in silence.

But Woohyun, in all his brightness, lured him in and Sunggyu can’t help himself, can’t stop his own hands from resting on the other’s hips, tracing skin under the thin shirt, rising to his back, feeling the muscles and the strength underneath.

He feels Woohyun’s own hands exploring his own body, slithering from back to front, holding him close, exploring.

Sunggyu breaks away, and Woohyun whimpers – mewls, and Sunggyu feels his spirits soar at the sound – and he lets Woohyun suffer for a second, watches with lidded eyes as red blotches the other’s cheeks, lips looking positively ravished, before he leans back in and resumes.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there, hands all over each other, locked by lip but Sunggyu doesn’t notice, doesn’t even think about it when Woohyun starts walking back, arms holding on to Sunggyu, lips not planning to cease their attack until Woohyun hits the bed and collapses back, Sunggyu over him.

Woohyun’s eyes are wide, the light finally hitting them – dark flashing to ochre – and Sunggyu leans over him, allowing himself this moment to take in Woohyun.

A face he’s known for the better part of his life, red and panting and enraptured.

All because of him.

All because of Sunggyu.

He did this.

He did that.

A powerful feeling, something far deeper than lust – something stronger than love or possession – something that scares Sunggyu to put words to, a magnanimous cavern in his chest promising to consume him for all _this_ , all for Woohyun – it rises to his throat, to his eyes and Sunggyu blinks.

“Sunggyu?” Woohyun whispers, eyes never leaving his.

“I love you.” He says, whispers.

Every frame of Woohyun he has burned in his mind: a pencil extended in the air, a smile under a fringe, his shadow chasing him across the field, a locked gaze in the middle of a stadium, ochre glowing under dim light.

He’s six, and twelve, and sixteen and twenty-two and he’s reminded that Woohyun is everything.

Woohyun looks back at him, wonder and fondness and something bright, something _good_ , something wonderful shines in his eyes and he doesn’t get a chance to respond – to return Sunggyu’s words, or to deny them, as the other lavishes him again, in sweet kisses.

Sunggyu takes in his lips, addicted to the taste, knowing that he’ll never feel like this for anyone else, not this strong, and not this overwhelming – lasting years across his lifetime.

He pulls back, only to let his hand settle on Woohyun’s stomach, feeling the ridges of his muscles there – tinged in softness now after a year-long absence from the field and Coach Dong-il’s care – and Sunggyu finds it perfect all the same, feeling Woohyun’s skin, knowing each crevice and plane like the back of his hand, but excited to explore it now – explore it in ways he could only dream of, then.

Woohyun doesn’t nod or answer, but Sunggyu sees him say yes in the way his eyes don’t look away, in the way he feels Woohyun’s hand lay flat on his thigh, caressing, wanting to feel him, too.

That cavern-like feeling returns to his chest and Sunggyu leans down, blinking back tears as he kisses Woohyun deep, searching and bruising.

His bestfriend’s shirt disappears in the run, taken away by Sunggyu’s deft hands, followed by Woohyun’s pants. When Sunggyu touches the hem of Woohyun’s boxers, he looks back and leans down, kisses Woohyun deep.

It feels good, feels good to have Woohyun like this – finally able to have this moment.

Pulling the black boxers away, Woohyun lays under him – naked and bare. He’s seen this, all planes and crevices, over the years and in different contexts and Sunggyu shouldn’t be surprised or excited, but he is.

He takes in the tan planes of skin, slightly golden – the dark nipples – the slightly dark markings left by too tight boxers on the edge of his hips, the spots and marks across Woohyun’s skin. He takes in the faint scar on Woohyun’s knee, from a fall during a game; takes in the mismatched shading, from golden to pale to golden again.

Woohyun looks up at him, unashamed and just as excited.

“Hyung,” Sunggyu looks at him, smiling and he knows his smile is lovestruck, bare and obvious even to the blind, to the cynical, to the apathetic. “I want to see you.”

And even though Sunggyu doesn’t have a body like Woohyun, more curve than muscle, he relents. He wants Woohyun to see him, wants to see him bare like the other, open and vulnerable and everything he’s ever kept hidden finally seeing light for the first time.

He lets Woohyun take his shirt off, lets the other’s hands roam over his chest, down his stomach to rest on his jeans and lets the other unbutton it, pulling them down. It’s not sexy, or attractive, the way Sunggyu helps Woohyun with it, sliding them off with his boxers but they don’t notice, too distracted and invested in finally seeing each other.

Really _seeing_ each other.

And Sunggyu leans back down, continues to press kiss after kiss on Woohyun, trailing it down his bare neck, to his chest, lapping at his nipples and down his abdomen, feels Woohyun's hands in his hair - holding, sighing, breathing out whimper after whimper. It's music to Sunggyu's ears, imprinted in his mind and over his heart, unforgettable - and Sunggyu knows, whatever the morning after may bring, he'll never forget now. A burning pyre lighting him inside, a memory to hold on through the lonely nights.

Minutes turn to hours, and hours turn to millennia, and they remain locked – holding on to this, in this bubble of _them_ , and when Sunggyu fills Woohyun, sheathes himself home – it’s like a lock clicks close, shut tight, and something in him finally, _finally_ sets itself right.

* * *

Sunggyu wakes to the feeling of someone combing through his hair. The fingers brushing them back are gentle, kind, loving – it feels like it’s his mother’s, and in his sleep-addled mind, he may have said that aloud as an amused chuckle fills the air.

He opens his eyes, blinks sleep and dreams away, and looks up to Woohyun looking down on him.

Daylight seeps into the room, filtered by the pale curtains, dimmed and soft and gentle and Sunggyu feels safe – content – like this. The room is a bit cold, it always is in the morning, but the blankets over their bodies keep them warm and when Sunggyu moved a bit, his legs tangled with Woohyun’s, he looks back up – wondering, trying to search for regret and doubt in the other’s eyes, heart in his throat.

Woohyun looks warm and fond, eyes soft and trailing over Sunggyu’s face that had his hopes blossoming, alive once more after years of repose.

“How long?” Woohyun asks, still as close, hair falling into his eyes – golden – breathing quietly in the morning silence.

Sunggyu blinks, and smiles. “Since I was six.”

Woohyun smiles at this, and Sunggyu sees him in a new light – sees him grow from bestfriend to something deeper, and Sunggyu reaches up slowly, letting his fingers hold on to Woohyun’s, feel them responding, holding on.

Woohyun leans down, softly and gently, and presses his lips against Sunggyu’s.

The kiss isn’t as forceful or bruising as it was last night, but it was just as deep, just as thorough. Something affirms itself inside Sunggyu, finding solace and home in Woohyun’s arms and he could have never imagined feeling this happy, this content.

To finally have something he wanted for so long.

 

 

And Sunggyu could finally voice out the words he’s kept under lock and key for years, under friendship and camaraderie, in the silence of his own thoughts. Woohyun’s bright smile shines like the morning star in a purple-lit dawn.

∞

Love makes no sense.

Love has no name.

Love drowns you in tears and then sets your heart on fire.

Love has no fear.

Love has no reason.

∞

“We should really stop this,” Woohyun grumbles, crawling out of the attic window after Sunggyu. The other rolls his eyes, after all these years – still amused at Woohyun’s quirks and antics.

“Hmm, funny you should mention that as _you_ were the one who suggested we do it here.” Sunggyu answers back, grinning at Woohyun. The other finally escapes the window and sits on the landing, setting his back on the wall, pouting at him. Honestly, even past the age of six, Woohyun was still a child at heart.

Sunggyu wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

"If we fall and break our necks and die, we won't get to meet up with Eunji tomorrow and she'll probably exorcise our spirits out of our corpses just to torture us." Woohyun mutters and Sunggyu guffaws, and he thinks - yeah, Eunji would probably do that. They have a lot of catching up to do - a whole  _lot_.

He turns back and looks across the horizon, sees the roof slates of so many houses – more familiar than not, rotting with age, lovingly filled with nostalgia — and he sees it, the setting sun. The sky is painted a fiery gold, like molten flame. It reaches through the expanse, carving itself across the clouds, flooding everything in crepuscular fields of light.

Flashes of memories run by Sunggyu’s mind, and he’s reminded of so long ago. He remembers – remembers stadiums and secret smiles, a litter of empty beer cans and dimmed mornings locked in peaceful kisses, remembers laughter between friends and, Sunggyu smiles to himself, he remembers an extended offer of kindness.

“What are you smiling about?” Woohyun grouses, setting the box next to him and looking up at Sunggyu. He shakes his head, crouching and patting the other’s legs. Woohyun pretends to kick him off, and Sunggyu laughs – crawling closer and landing a small kiss on Woohyun’s lips. A smile replaces the pout.

Some things never change.

They wait out the setting sun there, talking, reminiscing, hands held over the box, locking eyes and smiling. Sometimes the words die out, replaced by silence but it remains easy – they always have been, way too comfortable with each other. Sunggyu rubs his thumb across Woohyun’s knuckles, recalling fights and make-ups, dates in odd places and caught in compromising positions and when he tells Woohyun this, they both laugh so hard they end up coughing, still in love.

It’s not that they’re perfect – no one is, and Sunggyu learns that: even Woohyun. He learns that through the fights, the apologies, the way they learned and relearned everything they ever knew about each other, re-sewing the knots of friendship into something deeper, and although it took a while – they took a while – they’re still here, and they had no plans of leaving any time soon.

When the sun disappears, and night comes, Woohyun pats his hand and he stands, helping the other. They open the box, and set everything on whatever space they could. It’s a bit awkward, and they’re far larger than their eight-year old bodies, sidestepping each other on the landing but they don’t mind, sometimes laughing at each other, or laughing into each other as they move close (and Woohyun inserts a kiss or two, Sunggyu never refusing).

With everything set out, Sunggyu grins at Woohyun and holds the sparkler up in the air. Woohyun squints in the dark, trying to light a match.

“If you accidentally set us on fire, I’m breaking up with you.” Sunggyu says, deadpan.

Woohyun rolls his eyes, and even though it’s dark, Sunggyu can still see it and he still feels that same thread of fondness coursing through him at Woohyun picking up _his_ own quirks. “Well, you’re stuck with me forever so you can suck it.”

A lecherous grin. “Oh, I will.”

A pinch to his side had Sunggyu giggling, relenting and Woohyun smiles. They’re easy, like that.

Finally getting the match to light, Woohyun carefully sets the fuse alight and in a beat, they both watch as the sparkler shoots up a flurry of colours – yellows, reds, and green – painting the night sky in a wave of light. Woohyun pulls his own sparkler up and sets it alight, each puff thrusting out colors – one after the other.

Sunggyu looks at Woohyun, finds the other already looking back, his secret smile on his lips and he’s brought back to a stadium, eyes locked through a distance and the burgeoning of a flame that promised to never go out.

“Happy anniversary, Woohyun.” Sunggyu says, smiling, and when he looks at Woohyun, he sees him then – twenty-two, sixteen, twelve, six.

Woohyun smiles back, eyes bright like the morning star – Andromeda, Orion and Pegasus shining in the deepness of ochre and gold, amidst exploding reds, yellows and greens. “Happy anniversary, Sunggyu.”

 

 

It was the sixth of August.

They’ve been married for forty years.

**Author's Note:**

> all you are with glorious scars,  
> instead of scarred glory.
> 
> lift up your head,  
> raise your voice.  
> You're stronger and more beautiful than anyone else.


End file.
